


The Gods are Lonely, Too

by Assisi



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Bittersweet, Brother-bonding, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assisi/pseuds/Assisi
Summary: "Do you know what it’s like to live, day after day, knowing that the love of your life is dead? Because that is the life I live. And that is the life I have saved Achilles from."Quick oneshot that offers an alternative motive why Apollo killed Achilles.





	The Gods are Lonely, Too

**Author's Note:**

> Knowing the story of Hyacinthus will probably give a lot more meaning to this fanfic, so if you haven't already, go watch [ Overly Sarcastic Productions' video ](https://youtu.be/MxEWO7Uc7D0) on him and Apollo and BOY, YOU WON'T REGRET.
> 
> So this oneshot takes place right after Apollo returns from the battlefield after he led Paris' arrow into the heart of Achilles, ending his life instantly. Aphrodite is being her usual shipping queen self and Hermes gets a lil bonding time with his favourite emo bro.
> 
> This work also [exists in Vietnamese](https://flower716.wordpress.com/2020/07/01/apollo-x-hyacinthus-patrochilles-su-co-doc-cua-cac-vi-than/) thanks to the translation of the lovely Fuji_Rika.

The clouds around the tip of Olympus were heavy and grey, gloomy with the anguish of ten years of war. It wasn’t just raging below, between Greeks and Trojans but also above, between gods and goddesses. Ten years of deceit, anger, and backstabbing. The gods, these intricate, immortal, powerful beings, they were exhausted by it. The end was near, they could feel it.

Apollo rushed through the Hall of Eternity, his cape flapping around his ankles with every step. The smell of the rusty blood of the battlefield clung to him, despite not having touched anything but Paris’ arrow.

“Just a minute of your precious time,” a woman spoke, appearing out of thin air, blocking his way. Apollo grunted but he did not attempt to escape the goddess. Her long, loosely braided hair snaked down her bosom and stomach, the tip of it reaching the curve of her hips. Her face was as if it was carved from flawless, cold marble. Her beauty was mesmerizing, yet Apollo felt nothing but irritation. Other gods began to gather nearby.

“You’ve just ruined my favourite couple,” Aphrodite accused.

“I thought your favourite couple was Helen and Paris.”

“Well, in a way,” she admitted. “They are the most gorgeous couple I’ve seen, yes. But that pure, ill-destined love that was between Achilles and Patroclus, that wrenched my heart a bit.”

“How sweet. Don’t tell me they convinced you to switch to the Greek side.” Apollo’s voice was full of mockery but she ignored it.

“I must admit, I cried a little when you watched Patroclus die and did nothing. The grief ate Achilles alive. And now, you manage to kill Achilles too, that is just even more―”

The dangerous glint in Apollo’s dark eyes drained her words away. For a moment, there was silence. Apollo could almost feel the gazes of other gods, digging into his skin.

“Do you know,” he whispered, low and venomous, “what it’s like to live, day after day, knowing that the love of your life is dead? That the person dearest to you has been ripped from your side? That you will never rid of the aching pain their absence causes? Because that is the life I live. And that is the life I have saved Achilles from.”

Aphrodite’s gaze flickered, her doe eyes staring into Apollo’s soul. For a moment, it seemed like she had more to say but then she just huffed and lifted her chin in acceptance.

Apollo stormed past her, leaping into the air, fleeing.

He couldn’t bear staying at Olympus, under the watchful eyes of the others. He also couldn’t stomach going back into the gore of the Trojan battlefield. He ended up amidst an unknown forest, by a river whose name he did not know. The only thing that mattered was that it was away from everything, and its waters were warm and lazy.

He’d stripped off his clothes and was floating on the surface, eyes closed, face turned towards the sun, its rays warming his cheeks. He let his body slowly relax, muscles easing off so much that he almost dipped underwater. He kept his face above the surface and started humming a low tune. Nature seemed to resonate his song.

“Apollo.” He flinched in surprise. Hermes was standing on the bank.

“How did you kn―”

Hermes pointed upwards, right at the sun. _That treacherous Helios._ He gave out his hiding place. Apollo wasn’t even surprised, at this point.

“I understand why you did it. Why you killed Achilles,” Hermes said. “And even though you support Troy and I support the Greeks, and my hero is dead now, I do not scorn you for it. You were protecting your city, and you were granting him escape from his pain. An act of grace, I’d call it.”

“Thank you.” Apollo smiled at his brother, his body relaxing back into the water again. Hermes sat, took off his winged shoes and dipped his feet into the river.

“You know, I’m a little envious of Achilles,” Apollo said quietly, raising his hand and letting water drip onto his face. “He has a chance of reuniting with his lover in the underworld. They will have an eternity together, in peace. What a blessing death is, for them. Mortals don’t understand the privilege of leaving this world. Us gods, we stay. Our loved ones pass. We get left behind.”

“You could always go down and check on Hyacinthus if you wished,” Hermes reminded him.

“Should I go and watch his pale ghost wander around in the distance? Should I approach him? It’d do nothing but disturb his rest. We couldn’t even touch each other properly. The curtain of life and death would still be hanging between us. The one thing I yearn to do is to join him is his ghostly state, to become one like him, but that, I cannot. I have tried.”

As Apollo spoke about his lost lover, still looking up at the sky, he noticed a patch of lilac from the corner of his vision. Flowers, beautiful hyacinths were blooming all around the riverbed. Apollo swam to the bank and rested his chin on the rich soil, watching the flower closest to him. It was fragrant and fragile and so very precious. Just like his beloved. It brought tears to his eyes.

He thought of Achilles and Patroclus, the two of them finding each other again, below the ground, far from war and misery. And he thought of his own state, ever-young, invulnerable, constant. Forever alive. Forever parted from Hyacinthus.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, inhaling the sweet scent that used to belong to his lover, and he felt so close to him, yet so achingly distant. He wished he was like Achilles. He wished he was dead.


End file.
